The Aftermath Timeline
by kaeru sattori
Summary: Ch 2: The plot thickens like Jello, ramen is eaten, Inuyasha looks good in leather, and evil enters the School of American Ballet. [Formerly "After the Fact"]
1. Prosthetics and Penthouse

**Author's Notes:  
**I turn my back for one friggen minute, and I'm off again writing a new fic. This one will have less plot and more "humor" (in quotes because, well, it's not particularly _good_).

**--Halp!--  
I can't decide which character to add in the next chapter Jakotsu is already in the mix, but I need another human from the Sengoku Jidai. Your "halp" is greatly appreciated.**

**Disclaimer:  
**Takahashi can't read English, and I'm seriously doubting Viz's literacy, so...  
Inuyasha and co. are all mine (mwahaha)! And available at highly affordable hourly rates, I might add. Payments must be made in advance and in unmarked bills of denominations no higher than $20, stashed in a paper bag and left in the alley between Starbucks and Chili's...

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Four hundred years ago, Naraku had _nearly_ been the conqueror of all Japan. He'd _almost_ gathered together the shattered Shikon-no-Tama, and had _almost_ rearranged himself into a form stronger than any had thought possible. And when the Second-to-Last Battle came, he'd _almost_ won.

But today, he didn't have time for any of that...

_Springer_ was on.

Naraku was lazing around on a dusty old sofabed he'd picked up for half price during the evacuation of Hiroshima. The three-legged coffee table in front of him was littered with back-issues of Penthouse, a half filled bottle of Nyquil, stray pork rinds, Men's Pocky wrappers, and a 2x2 foot square Budweiser pyramid.

He scratched his stomach, still thin thanks to youkai metabolism, belched, and bellowed, "Kagura! More beer!"

A can flew out of the kitchen and hit him square on the head as Kagura stomped into the doorway and leaned against the doorframe. Frowning, she crossed her arms in front of the split-sleeved shirt she wore coupled with black leather pants and knee high stiletto-heeled boots. "I tried to be understanding when you refused to get a job, you bastard, but I draw the line when you won't even walk to the damn fridge."

Naraku ignored her and reached a weak hand out at the beer can, which had landed somewhere near the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. He wondered briefly if it was worth getting up for.

"Don't ignore me!" Kagura yelled, picking up several bobble-head Chihuahua dolls and hurling them in Naraku's general direction. "I've had it up to friggen _here_ with this! I'm leaving, Naraku, and I'm fuckin' serious this time!" She angrily snatched her purse from a battered chair and slashed the TV in half on her way out the door.

Naraku sat up abruptly as the TV started fizzling and sparking. "I was watching that," he said starkly, and a pulsing heart formed in the palm of his hand. He squeezed slightly, even a little lazily, but it was enough to send Kagura to the floor with her hands clutched over her heart. A whimper of pain escaped her lips; even centuries couldn't dull the pain.

"Go if you want," he said in a frigid voice. "But you'll be back, and you'll pay for the damn TV."

Kagura stumbled out of the door, almost catching her boots on the doorframe. The crackling sound coming from the broken TV ended in a bang as she slammed the door shut. She kicked at the side of the house until a rain of shingles fell on the shriveled azalea bushes.

"No way is that asshole related to me," she fumed. "No. Fucking. Way."

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A secretary knocked at the office door saying, "Mr. Taiyou? A young woman is asking to see you."

The man she was timidly addressing was seated in a leather, massage-action desk chair, his legs hidden behind a desk. Every paper on his desk was boxed into a neat and exact pile with a matching paperweight holding it down. Every painting on his wall was straightened daily with a carpenter's level. The secretary smoothed her shirt, feeling that she was the only thing out of place in this office. A name card on the desk read:

**Taiyou Sesshoumaru  
**President and CEO, Johnson and Johnson Nippon Branch

Sesshoumaru sighed, straightened a loose paper, then looked at the secretary expectantly. "Her name?"

"Oh! I think she said... Saho Kagura." The secretary frowned as Sesshoumaru's normally calm face registered surprise. "You know her?"

"We've met," said Sesshoumaru. "I didn't exactly get the best impression of her, but then again... time heals all psychoses. Send her in."

As he waited, Sesshoumaru gently poked at his prosthetic left arm. He could move it slightly by flexing the muscles near his shoulder, but it wasn't good for much more than that. He used to pin memos to his arm with thumbtacks just for the flabbergasted look on the other companies' presidents faces, or stand spare darts up in his arm while playing at bars, but he had stopped after being confronted by his employees and asked to cease and desist. Normally Sesshoumaru took orders from no one, but he made exceptions for people who jealously guarded a Xerox of his ass that could quite easily make its way onto the company message board.

The door fanned open quietly and Kagura's heels clicked across the floor. She took a seat facing Sesshoumaru, looking up at his face. The half-moon and stripe markings were gone, his hair was short and dark and he was obviously wearing contacts to color his eyes brown, but she could still recognize the delicate shape of his face. Kagura thought he looked like a human but­ damn, he looked good.

"It's been a long time, Kagura," Sesshoumaru said.

She almost smiled. "Centuries. By the looks of this office you seem to have done much better than we have."

"And how's 'Daddy,' the little motherfucker?" Sesshoumaru's face was a slate wiped clean. Just like Kagura saw it in her dreams. "Still alive, or has someone had the good sense to shoot him?"

"Tried that already. But I came to ask you a favor," she said. "I think you know what I'm asking; I asked you once before, all those centuries ago." She leaned closer, resting her hands on Sesshoumaru's desk. "Kill Naraku. Please," she added as an afterthought. "He is weak and afraid after retreating from the Battle, so no problem there. I'd kill him myself, but the bastard holds my heart in his hands. Literally."

Sesshoumaru rose from his chair and strode over to a scroll painting. He stared at it with his back to Kagura. "You have no idea... what I have gone through. No idea."

Kagura's eyebrows knitted together but she waited for his answer. Finally he said, "I'll speak with my brother about this."

"Inuyasha! You-- you know where he is?" Kagura gasped. "Does he still have the Shikon no Tama?"

"_You_ ask him. Come back tomorrow," said Sesshoumaru with his eyes locked onto the scroll. Kagura nodded, stood, and left.

The room was empty again. As he looked at the painting with its wide brush strokes and inked colors, a tear slid down his cheek. A beautiful young woman smiled silently from the paper, wearing a purple and white kimono and a boa draped over her shoulders. "Rin..."  



	2. Two Conversations

Thank you's, hugs, and invisible (read: nonexistant) Inuyasha plushies to my reviewers:  
**Lisa**-- You like my writing style? Thank you _so much!_ Could you tell that to my English teacher? ^-^ Please?  
**Mary-- **Yeah, I've always wondered about whether any of the youkai were alive in the present, what they were doing, etc. And I hope you're not calling her a skanky ho 'cause of the outfit, because that's kinda what I like to wear... .  
**Claraious**-- Jaken?! Hells no! Rest assured that if he ever appears, it will be for just a short cameo that will probably end in him getting hurt. Badly.  
**A-chan**--Thanks for the suggestion, I actually wanted her in here so that she could meet herself, but I just couldn't see Kaede and Jakotsu as a comedic duo. Anyway, thank you!

**Higurashi Shrine in Tokyo, Japan  
Wednesday 2:19 PM**

"You're sure you want to do this?"  
"Don't look at _me._ It was _your _stupid-assidea."  
"Language, Inuyasha! One must soften one's speech in the presence of women."  
"Oh, so you speak to them real nice before you rub their asses up, is that it, Houshi-sama?"  
  
Shippou watched the gaggle of people standing on the shrine steps and added his own profound insight: "I'm hungry."

Kagome turned with wide eyes and gave Shippou's head a motherly pat. "I know, I know. Mom's got ramen on the stove." She plucked him up and started walking toward the house. "Come on, Inuyasha!"

"Did you say 'ramen?'" asked Inuyasha as his ears perked up. He grabbed Sango and Miroku by the hands and dragged them up the steps.

They followed Kagome into her house and sat down around a low table set with dishes and chopsticks. Miroku was looking around in interest at the living room, and Sango and Inuyasha tried to appear nonchalant and worldly about the weird gadgets that surrounded them.

Kagome's mother walked through the doorway with a steaming pot of ramen and set it down on the table. "Oh, hello. You're Kagome's friends from...ah...the well." She beamed. "She's told me so much about you."

They smiled a little out of embarrassment and bowed. Everyone ladled out their lunch and dug in.

"So..." said Inuyasha between slurps.

Kagome was gulping her ramen down, excitement shining from her eyes. "This is gonna be so much fun! I'll show you guys all around Tokyo--you'll love it. And Mom"--she paused to swallow--"is giving us money to go _shopping."_

Miroku and Inuyasha smacked their foreheads in unison.

Sango finished off her ramen and asked, "Shopping for what?"

"CDs, clothes, whatever we want. By the end of the day, you'll all be experts on modern culture."

"Clothes sound good," grinned Sango. "Haven't gotten a new yukata for years."

Miroku and Inuyasha watched the girls' faces in horrified fascination, getting the vague idea that something evil was brewing.

"You know, Inuyasha..." said Kagome in a conversational tone. "I think you'd look absolutely fabulous in leather..."

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**School of American Ballet in New York City, NY USA  
Thursday 7:08 AM**

The whole point of living in New York, aside from the pizza, is to be in the middle of it all. Fifi's French Salon could be next to Mama Jeanne's House of Soul Food, and noone will bat an eyelash; New Yorkers aren't shocked by anything, with the exception of two 500 year old Japanese yurei hanging around a street corner near SAB and smoking cigarettes.

So it was a good thing that none of the passersby noticed Jakotsu and Koharu, who happened to be just that . One stood on a curb, leaning against a streetlight and rustling through his duffel bag for a cigarette. Koharu, a young girl, was barely as tall as his shoulder. She wore a generic-looking school uniform and a short, chin-length haircut. The expression on her face made it seem as if her cheeks and eyelids were heavy and hard to curlup into a smile.

Jakotsu found a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. "I heard from Sesshoumaru last night.."

"Who?"

"Man with the boa. Gorgeous cheekbones." Jakotsu sighed.

"Oh," Koharu said quietly, as was her manner. "What the fuck's he want?"

"Apparently Inuyasha showed up at a mall in Tokyo yesterday. Good; you remember him," he said, noting Koharu's mouth slipping open to complement her wide eyes.

She nodded. "Didn't he...he travelled with Miroku-sama! Do you think he'd know...what happened, and where the hell Miroku is now?"  
  
"See, that's the clincher!" Jakotsu almost clapped. "They're _all_ there-- Inuyasha, Miroku, the little brat, and--" he added disdainfully "--the two young women."  
  
Koharu lost all semblance of composure and went completely slackjawed.  
  
Jakotsu just grinned and held up his watch. "Oh my, look at the time. I'm late for barre." He trotted across the street--jaywalking, of course; this _is_ New York-- and waved back at Koharu.  
  
"Miroku-sama...how...?" She stomped out a cigarette and ran to join the crowd, crying softly.

* * *

Just realized that I'd ended both chapters with someone crying...oops... Next chapter will be funnier! 


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